


Dead poets society second gen

by SherryRoth



Category: Dead Poets Society
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherryRoth/pseuds/SherryRoth
Summary: The daughter of Todd Anderson finds herself rooming with Charlie Dalton’s son. Their rooming situation blossoms into love.





	1. Sam’s point of view

September first, nineteen eighty nine  
Several years before, Welton academy was an all-boys boarding school. Charles Dalton, was not the first but was the most rebellious in his campaign, moved to introduce the idea of making Welton co-ed  
This year, the administration listened to him.   
Orientation:  
The gathering hall is loud, boys chattering about the change, girls talking among themselves, the headmaster approaches, and the room falls silent.   
“In light of the unfortunate passing of Headmaster Nolan, I have been asked to fill his shoes here as the new headmaster. I taught here, years ago, and I also survived as a student. My name is John Keating, and I introduce to you the tradition here I plan to change, in the past, students here have begged to have this school be co-ed. I petitioned the board and this year will be our experimental year with this.” The boys erupt into cheers, and the twenty or so girls roll their eyes.   
After orientation:  
I make my way down the hall to the dorms, lugging my bags behind me. My parents were too busy to stay, and if they weren’t, they probably wouldn’t have stayed anyway. My father refuses to step foot on this ground, and my mother stopped caring about me, his other child, a long time ago. My biological mother passed after I was born, and all I have are a few pictures. When I was four, my father remarried. He told me that he thought that I would flourish more with a feminine influence. Acacia, however, was anything but. She refuses to acknowledge me, and she actually begged my father to let me be in the experimental class of girls this year. I think she just wanted me out. They only made a small girls dorm, expecting 10-15 girls. There were seventeen girls, and I’m the only one that doesn’t get a dorm in the girls wing. Nobody wanted the financial aid kid. I find my dorm. They asked me if I was okay rooming with one of the boys. I don’t mind. Acacia makes me share with her oldest son anyway. I walk in and there’s luggage thrown on the bed. He probably wanted to meet with his friends. I unpack and curl up on my bed. I trace the carving I found on the wall. Unintelligible nonsense that it is, it’s still intriguing. Nuwanda. What in the world is Nuwanda? I think, allowing myself to be lost in my thoughts. A chorus of voices pulls me back to reality. “Dude, you got the chick.” A voice says from the back. A group of six or seven boys is standing in the doorway. I sit up, my red hair flopping in my face. One of the boys steps forward, “Well, hello there. My name is Hunter Dalton. Pleasure.” He takes my hand and kisses it, dipping in a dramatic bow. Another boy, about three inches taller than Hunter scoffs, “You’re gonna scare her Dally.” He sticks out his hand to shake mine, “Christopher Overstreet. Pleasure to meet you.” I shake his hand, “Samanta Anderson. But my friends call me Sam. Er, they would, if I had any.” Hunter stands up, making a dramatic movement with his arms, “But chérie, you have us.” I suppress a giggle. Another boy is about to introduce himself when a knock comes at the door. Hunter, being the closest, opens it. My father walks in. “Sammy. I’m sorry. Acacia dragged me to a charity thing. I climbed out the window. I couldn’t very well not say goodbye to my little girl.” I blush. I try to formulate a response when the headmaster comes striding in. “Ms. Anderson, I apologize for your quarters, but should any of these gentlemen bother you, just contact me. I am truly sorry for the living arrangements, but some of those girls’ parents… let’s just say they weren’t taking no for an answer.” He comes over to shake my hand, but stops dead when he sees my father. “Todd.” A smile emerges on my dad’s face, “Captain. Headmaster now?” Headmaster Keating nods, “And English teacher. Hopefully Miss Samantha here will learn as much from me as you did.” Something in me clicks. I stand on the bed. “‘O captain, my captain, our fearful trip is done,   
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won. The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting. While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring. But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,   
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You’ve fallen cold and dead.  
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,   
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells!  
But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.’ Headmaster, you’re Captain?” He looks at my father. He shrugs, “She was about eight. Found some old notes I had, a picture of me, Neil, Knox, Charlie, and Pitts. I told her everything.” Headmaster looks surprised. “All this and, she got Charles’ old dorm. Looks like the legacy of the 1959 DPS is still alive and kicking.” I pull my trunk of books out from beneath the bed, and rummage around for the one I’m looking for. “Charming, stunning, well-read, and smart. Is there anything that you can’t do Sam?” Hunter says, looking at my overflowing trunk of books. Headmaster Keating raises an eyebrow, “Any chance that those are school commissioned, Miss Anderson?” I shake my head, “My school books are on the shelf. These are just my favorites from home. Well, most of them. Acacia wouldn’t let me take them all. ‘A young lady of your age should be courting men. What’s wrong with you? You’re eighteen and you are the only one warming your bed’” Christopher snickers, “She actually said that to you?” He asks, bewildered. I nod. I rummage around in the trunk for a few more seconds, then present my findings. Five centuries of verse. My father grins sheepishly, “I nicked it from your desk the day you came into English class to gather your personals. I didn’t want to leave everything behind.” Headmaster Keating smiles, “I knew you had it in you.” My father smiles, says another goodbye, and leaves. Headmaster Keating walks out shortly after to finish his rounds. That leaves me, Hunter, Christopher, and the other four. Christopher is the first to speak, “Sammy?” I feel myself blush, “It’s..” Hunter cuts me off, “I like it. But I have the distinct feeling that if any of us try to call her that, she’s gonna beat the hell out of us.” I smile, “You got that right. So, which one of you is actually my roommate?” Hunter grins wickedly, “Yours truly.” I feign a groan. The rest of the boys excuse themselves, and Hunter and I are alone in the room. “Let me guess,” Hunter says suddenly, “Your mom is out of the picture, one way or another, and Acacia is your stepmother. She and your dad have children so she treats you like dirt, and you take shelter in the worlds built by books.” I look at him, “You got all of that from meeting me once?” He grins, “No, I swiped your diary when you weren’t looking.” He holds up the leather bound notebook. I reach for it, but he stands up and holds it out of my reach. “Hunter come on.” He gives me a mischievous grin, “I’ll give it back, if..” He trails off. “Please Hunter anything.” I beg. “Hmm, anything? How about...how about you agree to go to see a movie with me?” I roll my eyes, “I would’ve agreed to that anyway. You didn’t have to take my diary. Speaking of, can I have it back?” He tosses me the notebook, and lays down on his bed, a smug grin on his face.   
The first week of classes is a blur, mostly reviewing stuff from the previous year. It’s finally Saturday, and it’s 10:30 when Hunter wakes me up. “You know, I had you pegged as a morning person, a goody-goody.” He says to wake me up. I sit up, forgetting that I hadn’t fallen asleep in my normal pajamas because it was Friday. Hunter’s eyes go wide at the sight of me in my sports bra and pajama shorts. My face grows warm and I burrow myself in the blankets. “Um so, I guess, um, well, god this is awkward.” Hunter mumbles. You know what? I don’t think that I care that Hunter saw me. Get up. Who cares? I don’t that’s for sure. Having made my decision, I throw off the covers and get out of bed. Hunter’s ears turn bright red when I walk past him and grab a green sundress out of my closet. I toss the dress on my bed and peck Hunter on the cheek before asking him for some privacy. I change into the dress, which is not as short as it appears on my long legs. Hunter comes back in while I’m lacing my black boots up, and I grab my copy of The Book Thief By Markus Zusak. I walk out to the lake, the sun warming my skin. I read, dipping my toes in the water, my boots and socks beside me. After a little while, I start humming under my breath. Eventually, I close my book, and get up and start walking around the perimeter of the lake and singing. A few minutes later, someone walks up behind me and starts clapping. I turn around, and Hunter is standing a few feet away from me. He walks closer, and he grabs both my hands, “There really isn’t anything you can’t do, is there? That was- that was beautiful.” I smile, “You- you weren’t really supposed to hear that. I- I’ve never sung for somebody.” He laughs, “Well, you should. And I don’t know when you look prettier, just now, lost in your own world and in that dress, or this morning, when you weren’t put together like you normally are.” I kiss him. He smells like the earth after it rains, like freshly mowed grass. He pulls away, his ears burning, “Sam, I- uh I gotta go.” I grab my shoes and book and run after him. I can’t find him, so I just go into our room and drop on one of beds, not being able to distinguish which one is mine, a few minutes later I fall asleep


	2. Hunter’s point of view

I walk back to my room, having finished my thinking, and just wanting to see if Sam’s there. I open the door, and she’s curled on my bed, her hair like a halo around her head. She smells like parchment and apples. I think, only a little wistfully. I grab her blanket off her bed and drape it over her. Chris pokes his head in the doorway, “Dinner.” I nod, and head out with Chris. Sam never leaves my mind. Her hair, the color of autumn leaves, her eyes, the color of skies after a storm, the way her voice sounds when she sings, full of emotion, like she’s pouring everything into her voice. Chris puts a hand on my shoulder and snaps me out of my reverie, “Hey Dally, you alright there?” I nod, not sure if my voice will work. We sit, and Headmaster Keating beckons me over to him. “Mister Dalton, you and I need to have a conversation regarding Miss Anderson.” I feel my ears go red, “Headmaster, I promise, I promise I will respect her, I have no intention of making her uncomfortable.” I say, slightly too fast. He laughs, “No, no, that’s not what I meant, although, the reassurance is nice. And I have no doubt you will respect her. Her birthday, it’s tomorrow, and I want to know if you will help me do something for her, because if what Todd told me is true, she hasn’t had a celebration since her fourth birthday.” No wonder she didn’t say anything. “Yessir.” I go back to my room, no longer hungry. When I walk in, Sam’s still asleep, but she’s stretched out now, and she kicked the blanket off of herself. I look at her, and notice that she’s got a huge scar on her knee, I’ll ask her what happened later. I sit at my desk and read our chapters for chemistry. An hour later, she stirs. She sits up, and her face goes red. “Hunter...what? How long? My head hurts.” I get up from the desk and sit next to her. “You fell asleep. And missed dinner. I brought you some soup.” She smiles, “Hunter…” she rests her head on my Shoulder. “Hey, Sam?” I say, “what happened to your knee?” She looks at me and subconsciously cups her knee. “It was a long time ago. I was about twelve, and Acacia Made me spend Time with Michael, her oldest Son, and he was really into ninjas and he had all these weapons in his room and don't ask me how he got her too agree to that when she won't even let me have a letter opener but he was playing with his ninja stars when I came in and one was thrown at my leg when I opened the door and buried itself in my knee. Michael never talked to me again. I'm not complaining though, it's bad enough I have to share a room with him.” I stare at her, and before I can say anything, she kisses me again. “I've never told someone that story. Not even my dad.” She rests her head on the wall. “Why are you so easy to talk to? I've never been able to talk to guys like this Before.” I nod, knowing how she feels. “Maybe it's because of what happened with Devin...he was only nice to me to try and get me to….never mind. But just promise me that you aren't trying to get me to...You know..” She Gestures to my bed. I blush when I figure out what she means, “Oh, Sam no, I promise. I genuinely want to talk to you, and maybe I like you a little, but I just want to get to know you.” She sighs and leans her head on my shoulder again. “I think- Hunter, would you like to see a movie with me?” I look at her, processing what she just said. “Did you just ask me out Sam Anderson?” She blushes, “That depends, are you saying yes?” I laugh, “You know Sam, if I wanted to get you to, you know, I would’ve done it already.” She looks at me, “Someone's confident.” I smile, “It's true.” She grins at me, and I reach out and start tickling her sides. She half shrieks, half laughs. I stop, after a few minutes, and she sits at the head of the bed, her legs in my lap. “Happy birthday,” I say suddenly. She looks at me, confused, but grinning. “How did you..” before she can finish her thought, My dad comes into the room. “Hunter, you left your trig book in the car, I'm surprised you haven't noticed.” I shrug. He's about to say something else when he notices Sam sitting next to me, “And who's this fine young lady?” Sam blushes, “Samanta Anderson.” He looks deep in thought for a moment, “And how do you know my son?” She shrugs, “He's my roommate.” My father looks taken aback, “They finally listened to me.” he murmurs absently. “Did you know my father?” Sam blurts out suddenly. “Depends on who your father is, young one.” He replies, trying to add An Air of mystery. “Todd Anderson.” Sam replied. My father looks at her, “Now that you mention it, you are the spitting Image of Toddsie except for your hair, where on earth did that come from? You’re very pretty. Hunter’s lucky to have you.” “I'll take that as a yes. And my hair comes from my mom.” Sam says, almost shyly. My dad winks at me and leaves, and I look at Sam, my face burning. “Sorry,” I mumble. She grins at me and kisses me on the cheek, “What for?” I look at her, had she not experienced the same awkwardness I had? “I'm gonna go to the library, see you later babe.” I look at her. “Did you just call me babe?” She grins at me, “Maybe.” She slips out the door, and I sit on the bed, thinking about Sam. “Mr. Dalton,” a voice says from the doorway.


End file.
